


Say Yes

by CynicalMistrust



Series: The Pattern of Feathers [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Cas and Sam are besties, Cas likes stealing Dean's clothes, Domestic Castiel, Gen, M/M, POV Sam Winchester, Sam Loves Health Food, Sam and Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4806221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalMistrust/pseuds/CynicalMistrust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~Part 3 of Pattern of Feathers~</p><p>Sam, Dean, and Cas have been through a lot together. Now that things have settled down and they are no longer faced with a choice between their lives or the world, maybe they can start to put their lives back together again.</p><p>~Sam and Cas morning interaction in the kitchen.~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Yes

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted some Cas and Sam interaction and woke up with this idea. Also, part of it was inspired by a pin I found on Pinterest a while ago, someone wanting a fic where Sam and Cas were talking and Sam ends up mentioning Jess.

Sam had gotten used to being the only one awake before 8 AM when they were in the bunker. Dean tended to sleep in, or pretend to, unless he’d been up drinking all night, in which case he’d be sitting at the table when Sam got up for his run. The past few weeks had seen far less of that and more of Dean getting up in time for an early lunch.

He glanced up as he heard the footsteps of the one responsible for Dean sleeping better. “Morning, Cas.” He turned back to his omelette making though glanced back at the angel to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “Does Dean know you’re wearing his robe?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice before he grimaced. “Oh God, please tell me you’re at least wearing underwear beneath it…”

Cas looked at the robe that was tied around him and hesitated. “I’m supposed to say yes, right?”

Sam sighed and looked away before he accidentally saw anything. “Yes, Cas, say yes. Even if it’s not true.”

“Then… yes…” 

Sam shook his head and glanced back over as Cas poured a cup of coffee. “Since when do you drink coffee?”

“I don’t.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow, watching Cas rummage through the fridge. “You’re serving him breakfast in bed?”

Cas looked up as he pulled out a pizza box. “Should I not?” He opened it and sniffed at the pizza. “Is this still edible?”

Sam laughed and flipped his omelette. “Does it have mold growing on it?”

“I think so.”

“Then no.” It was tempting to say yes, but even he wouldn’t prank his brother with bad food.  Healthy food, maybe. He looked over as Cas stood there a moment before putting the box back in the fridge, rolling his eyes upwards before letting his head thud against the cabinet over the stove, reminding himself that Cas didn’t know better. Dean sure as hell knew better, and that pizza should have been thrown away days ago, but Cas… needed a guiding hand or else he’d be living with two jerks who couldn’t clean up after themselves. “Spoiled food goes into the garbage, Cas.”

“Right.” Cas retrieved the pizza again and dumped it into the trash. “Is there anything else he’d eat?”

“You can take him an omelette.” Sam flipped it again before grabbing a plate to slide it onto, holding it out to Cas.

Cas stared at it a long moment before looking up at Sam. “I don’t think he’ll eat that.”

“Why, because it’s healthy? If he’s hungry enough he will.”

Cas tilted his head with a smile tugging at his lips. “Because he said the ones you make are poison.”

Sam rolled his eyes and turned off the stove. “Then I guess he’s gonna starve.” Make an omelette with a spoiled egg once and suddenly everything is poison. Jerk. He grabbed a fork and settled at the table to eat, glancing up when Cas still hovered in the kitchen. “He’ll be fine until lunch, Cas.”

“No, that’s not…” Cas sighed and sat at the table across from him, clasping his hands in front of him. “Are you alright, Sam?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine.” Cas stared at him a long moment, until it was hard to keep from fidgeting in his seat. “Why?”

Cas lowered his eyes to his hands, rubbing his thumbs together. “I worry… you don’t like how things have changed, between Dean and I.”

Sam almost choked and set his fork down, taking a long drink of his juice. “What? No way, man. I’m happy for you guys, really.” It was just hard to realize it was something he’d likely never find himself. It wasn’t like there was anyone else out there, angel or otherwise, willing to sacrifice everything for them time and time again. No one else they could call family. “It just… makes me miss Jess,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. 

He didn’t mean to say that, he hadn’t meant to even think it. It’d been ten years, but seeing Dean… relaxed and more like he’d been all those years ago reminded him he’d had that once, too. Brief and fleeting, but it had been amazing and comforting and real. 

“Jess is…” 

Sam stared at his omelette, no longer hungry and feeling a bit sick. “The girl I was going to marry.”

“Jessica Moore,” Cas said quietly, tilting his head with a distant look in his eyes. “She has a nice heaven, Sam. It’s full of memories of you.”

Sam sucked in a breath and felt like he’d been punched in the gut, reaching up and digging his fingers into his stinging eyes. “Thanks, Cas.” He didn’t move for a long moment, forcing his breathing to stay even and steady. When Cas finally stood and dropped a hand on his shoulder, he patted it with his own.

“I don’t believe you’ll be alone forever, Sam.”

Sam laughed, latching onto anything to distract him from the burning ache in his chest. “You don’t have to worry about me, Cas. I’m fine.”

Cas hesitated, squeezing his shoulder with a nod before picking up the cup of coffee and returning to Dean’s room.

Sam took a shuddering breath once he was alone and picked up his plate, dumping the omelette in the trash before heading for another run to clear his head. And if he took a detour and just sat in silence under a tree for a few hours, no one would be the wiser.


End file.
